


Lamb to the Slaughter

by butterflyslinky



Series: Spoils of War [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canonical Character Death, Episode: s05e14 In Purgatory's Shadow, Episode: s05e15 By Inferno's Light, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 02:52:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10822224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyslinky/pseuds/butterflyslinky
Summary: Julian thought it was over. It wasn't. Not yet.





	Lamb to the Slaughter

Julian woke up with someone poking him with a sharp object.

He groaned and opened his eyes. There was a Jem’Hedar soldier standing over him. “Wake up, human,” the Jem’Hedar said.

“Where am I?” Julian asked. “How did I get here?”

“You’re in Internment Camp 371,” the soldier said. “You have been chosen by the Founders to be replaced.”

Great. Which meant there was a Changeling in his place back on the station taking control of the blood tests. Julian sighed and sat up. He was on a stone floor, surrounded by Jem’Hedar.

“You are an enemy of the Dominion,” the soldier next to Julian said. “There is no release, no escape…except death.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Julian said.

“Follow me to be processed,” the solider said. With little other choice, Julian obeyed.

He was taken to a small building and scanned for weapons before being led out. “The prisoner,” the soldier said to another Jem’Hedar, who seemed to be in charge. “His identity has been confirmed and he has no weapons.”

“Very well,” the leader said. “You will be sheltered in barracks six. You are free to move about the compound. But remember...beyond the atmospheric dome there's nothing but airless vacuum and barren rock. Leave the dome, even for an instant, and you die.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Julian said. “Where’s the barracks, then?”

The soldier behind him sighed in annoyance. “I will take you there.” He prodded Julian forward. Julian walked where directed and was soon shown to a room, clean and austere, all metal panels and bunks. The soldier pushed him inside. Julian stumbled in and glanced around.

There were two Romulans sitting on a bunk, who regarded Julian with the same cold veneer every Romulan had. There was also a Breen on a different bunk, unmoving. The Klingon general Martok sat on another bunk, nursing a recent still-bleeding wound.

And struggling into a sitting position near the back was Enabran Tain.

Julian’s breath went short. Fear and rage clenched at his heart as he stared at the Cardassian, the man who had taken everything from him…

“Dr. Bashir,” Tain said. “What a pleasant surprise to have you here.”

“No,” Julian choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “No, you’re dead…”

“Alas, no, for all the people who wish I was,” Tain said. “But I think I will be soon…I feel weak…tired…I think my time is close, though I’d rather have you confirm it.”

“No!” Julian said, backing away. “Don’t you come anywhere near me, you monster!”

The Romulans watched with interest. “So this is the doctor you mentioned?” the woman asked.

“Oh, yes,” Tain said. “This is him…pretty, isn’t he? You see why Elim got attached…”

“SHUT UP!” Julian shouted, anger overtaking fear. “Don’t you dare talk about him! Or me!” As he said it, a cold shudder when through him. Tain had talked about him. Tain had told these Romulans what he had done, and they seemed to approve. They were probably Tal Shiar, no doubt on the same ship where it had happened…

“Oh, Doctor,” Tain said. “You don’t give orders here. None of us do. But don’t worry—if you help me, I’ll make sure you get out.”

Julian didn’t believe him. He didn’t care what masterplan Tain had, only that of all the bunkers in all the prison camps in all the galaxy, he had to be stuck in one with Tain. Unable to take anymore, Julian turned and fled the barracks.

He ran through the compound, not caring where he went, as long as it was far away from Tain. As he ran, memories pounded through his head. _Tied down, naked, helpless, with Tain choking him and forcing him to his knees…a knife on his back…a weight on top of him, pressing him into the bed…_

It had been two years since that day. Two years of attempting to rebuild his life and psyche, two years of trying to forget what Tain had done to him and build a happy relationship with Garak. Sure, the last few months had been rocky, but Julian felt that they were getting somewhere.

And now…now, he would probably never see Garak again.

Julian stopped running and glanced around. He was in a small hallway, sterile steel like everything else in this place. But he was far away from Tain. Julian slid down the wall and sat, hugging his knees to his chest and fighting the tears threatening to erupt. He was supposed to be over this. He was supposed to be free.

He stayed there for nearly ten minutes, struggling to remain calm, fighting to maintain control. He only looked up when he heard footsteps approaching.

There were three Cardassians coming toward him. Julian guessed that they were all Obsidian Order. He stood up quickly, putting on a brave face. The Cardassians stopped and looked at him, leering. “Well,” the one in front said. “We found him…Tain’s whore.”

Julian shuddered. Did everyone in this place know about it?

“He said you were weak,” the Cardassian continued. “Easy to subdue…and a lot of fun to break.” He smirked. “Let’s see how fast we can break you.”

Julian turned to run, but the Cardassians had moved, surrounding him, trapping him against the wall. The one in front moved forward and tore the front of Julian’s jacket open.

 _Not again…please, not again._ Julian squeezed his eyes shut. His breath came in jerky gasps. Unbidden, the tears started, falling down his cheeks and he knew they wouldn’t care. They probably enjoyed it.

The Cardassian grabbed Julian’s wrists, pushing them above Julian’s head. Julian struggled against the hold, trying to throw him off, knowing he wouldn’t get far but needing to get away…

“Unhand him!”

Julian opened his eyes and saw the Cardassians turn. Martok was standing at the end of the hallway, glowering at them from his remaining eye.

“Why should we, Klingon?” the Cardassian holding Julian snarled. “He’s a human…good for nothing but our pleasure.”

Martok growled. “Would you like to challenge me?” he snarled. “Because I will defeat you all in battle, though there is no honor in killing such scum.

The Cardassians exchanged a look, but then the leader released Julian’s wrists and stepped away. “You’re unfortunate, human,” he said. “Being Tain’s whore was better than being a Klingon’s pet.” The Cardassians turned and walked away, glaring at Martok as they went.

Julian slid down the wall again, collapsing to the floor, openly crying now. If the Cardassians were bad, what would a Klingon do?

He heard Martok step toward him and shrank back instinctively.

“Are you injured?”

Julian glanced up. “I…I’m fine,” he choked out.

Martok sat down next to him, leaving a respectful distance between them. “They have no honor,” he spat. “Attacking an unarmed man three to one! And what they intended is shameful in every respect.”

Julian looked at him. “You won’t…?”

“I will not harm you,” Martok said. “I could see you were distressed when Tain spoke to you.”

Julian hesitated. “Did he tell you he…?”

“He boasted of the dishonor he did to you,” Martok said. “I would have challenged him to combat, but he is old and weak. And he is the only one who can get us out of here.”

Julian sat up, settling himself more comfortably. “How does he plan to do it?”

“Each barracks has its own life support system,” Martok explained. “Disused now. Tain is turning the one in our barracks into a subspace transmitter. He’s almost finished…he should be able to get a message out if he doesn’t die first.”

Julian swallowed heavily. “I…I might be able to help, but…I don’t know if I can.”

Martok nodded. “If it was merely his life on the line, I would tell you to let him die a dishonorable death, brought low and forgotten. But I will not die dishonorably as a prisoner…and I do not wish that for you, either.”

Julian nodded. “Even if there weren’t more lives on the line, I’m a doctor,” he said. “My Hippocratic Oath compels me to help him…no matter how I feel about him.” He blinked a few times. “But…even if he’s weak and dying, there are others who would hurt me…”

“Upon my honor,” Martok said. “I swear that no one will harm you so long as I draw breath. I will not allow you to be alone with Tain, nor will I allow anyone else to touch you.” He gave Julian a small smile. “But I suggest you stick close to our barracks. Each day, I am forced to fight the Jem’Hedar until I can fight no more. Unless you wish to sit by the arena for hours on end, it will be safer for you to stay with the Romulans.”

“The Romulans don’t care about what he did.”

“No,” Martok said. “They don’t disapprove…but they also won’t touch you once I’ve made my promise clear.”

Julian nodded. “Thank you.” He took a few deep breaths and stood up. “Let’s go back now…I’ll have a look at Tain. See if I can keep him alive just a little longer.”

*

Something was wrong.

Garak could tell right away when Julian stepped off the shuttle. The doctor looked happy, a spring in his step and a spark in his eyes. Julian spotted Garak and smiled immediately and Garak knew that something was _wrong._

But Garak hitched an answering smile into place as Julian came toward him. “I see your trip to Meezan IV has improved your spirits,” Garak commented.

“Hmm, yes,” Julian said. “It was very refreshing.” He leaned in and gave Garak and quick peck on the cheek. “But I’m glad to be home.”

“I’m glad you’re home, too,” Garak said, though his mind was racing.

They had been a couple for nearly nine months, briefly interrupted by Garak’s time spent in a holding cell for attempted genocide.

That had been torture. Not only had he been stuck in a small space for _months,_ but Julian had refused to talk to him throughout. Garak had tried to explain that he wasn’t planning to kill Julian specifically, but they were all going to die if he succeeded anyway, and blowing up the planet was the surest way to ensure victory…

 _“You weren’t trying to be a hero,” Julian spat at him the one time he had visited. “You told me before that you’re not a hero. You were doing it out of revenge. For_ Tain, _of all people.” His eyes were full of hurt. “After everything he did, you still want to avenge him?”_

_Garak sighed. “You don’t understand,” he said. “What he did to you was terrible. What he’s done to me is terrible. But I still owe him.”_

_“What do you owe him?” Julian asked._

_“I can’t explain it,” Garak said. “Please…just understand, I didn’t do this because I don’t love you. I still hate what he did…I hate what he’s turned us into. But…”_

_“Forget it,” Julian said. “You’ve got plenty of time to think about it. When you’ve figured out what you actually want, we’ll talk.”_

That had been six months ago. Garak had only gotten out two weeks ago and had gone to Julian immediately, apologies falling from his lips, pleas for forgiveness that he had only before spoken to Tain.

And Julian, blessed soul that he was, had accepted him, had taken Garak back into his heart, albeit with a few reservations. Garak knew Julian was still upset with him, but time had put enough distance between that incident and now that Julian was at least willing to try and rekindle their already strained relationship.

The fact that Julian had recently broken up with Leeta when Garak returned might have helped.

But their relationship was far from repaired. Julian didn’t typically go for public displays of affection these days, preferring to keep a comfortable distance between them.

So now, heading back to Julian’s quarters with his hand on Garak’s arm, it was clear that either the medical conference was more relaxing than Garak would have thought, or something was seriously wrong.

Nevertheless, Garak kept his face fairly neutral as he listened to Julian prattle on about whatever medical thing the conference was about. Whatever was wrong with him, Garak would surely figure it out quickly.

They reached Julian’s quarters and Julian turned to Garak with a smirk on his face. “Would you like to come in?” he asked.

Garak’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t been invited into Julian’s quarters since they had made up and it seemed a bit…sudden. “Julian,” he said. “Are you feeling all right?”

Julian frowned a bit. “Fine,” he said. “Why?”

“You’re just…” Garak trailed off. “You haven’t been in this good a mood since…well, in a long time.”

“And why shouldn’t I be in a good mood?” Julian asked. “Nice conference, relaxing getaway, and now a beautiful man who hasn’t welcomed me home properly.” He gave Garak another smirk and Garak knew this wasn’t his Julian.

Several possibilities went through his mind before he settled on the most likely—this had to be a Changeling. For some reason, they had chosen to replace Julian, and now…

Now what? He could go to Sisko or Odo with the information, but what would he say? _Yes, Captain, I think my boyfriend’s been replaced by a Changeling because he’s acting happy and actually wants to spend time with me._ Somehow, that didn’t sound at all plausible, especially coming from the second-most paranoid person on the station. Odo might be more receptive, but if the Changeling was exposed, who knew what might happen to Garak and Odo?

And what about the real Julian? Was he dead? Had the Changelings merely killed him in order to plant their replacement? Had Garak been in their place, he certainly would have done so, but he didn’t know how Changelings’ minds worked. If Julian was still alive, exposing the imposter could mean he wouldn’t be for much longer.

One thing was certain—Garak wasn’t going to be alone with an imposter any more than he had to be. So he merely smiled and said, “Thank you, my dear, but I believe I should be going. I have an early fitting tomorrow and I’d hate to oversleep.”

The Changeling-Julian pouted. “But Garak,” he said, with just a hint of a whine in his voice. “I’ve missed you.” He leaned in and kissed Garak’s lips softly. “Didn’t you miss me as well?”

 _Think, Garak!_ “Of course I did,” Garak said. “But don’t you remember? We discussed it before you left…” He trailed off, thinking quickly. “I told you I was going into…well, the word didn’t translate well, but it means that I am, alas, unable to partake in any sexual activities for…oh, another month or two.” That should be enough time to get a plan together and carry it out. “You understand…it’s very distressing to me, but I can’t compromise my health for base desires.” It was a lie, and a test—if this was his Julian, he would know that Garak was talking complete nonsense.

The Changeling-Julian was frowning, but then he nodded. “Oh…yes,” he said. “I remember now…and I’d be remiss in my duties as a doctor if I allowed you to do anything like that.” He smiled. “I’m sorry…I just missed you so much I wasn’t thinking…”

“Perfectly understandable, my dear,” Garak said, feeling defeated. Of course this wasn’t his Julian—sex was still completely off the table for them, and Garak hadn’t expected that to change any time soon. “But for now, I really must be going. Good night.” He turned and hurried away.

*

“Degenerative heart failure,” Julian announced. “I give you another month at most.” He stood up, keeping his crisp professionalism around him like a shield. He wasn’t afraid of Tain right now—even if he hadn’t been dying, Martok was standing just behind Julian, glaring at everyone.

Tain nodded. “Well, it wasn’t unexpected,” he said. “How long until I can no longer crawl into the walls?”

Julian huffed out a breath. “Few weeks, if you push yourself. How close are you to being finished?”

“A few weeks is more than sufficient,” Tain said. “Just a few more connections to be made to get a message out…I’m trusting your friends on Terok Nor to pick it up.”

“Are you planning to use a Federation distress signal?” Julian asked. “Because the Dominion will notice that.”

Tain gave him a quelling look. “Have you forgotten who I am, Doctor, or do you think my brain is deteriorating along with my heart?”

“I’d find it more likely,” Julian said coolly. “I at least know you have a brain.”

Tain almost smiled at that. “Very good, Doctor,” he said. “I see you’ve gotten your spirits back, with an attack dog at your beck and call.” Martok growled, but Tain ignored him. “But to answer your question, no, I wasn’t going to use a Federation signal…oh, they’ll pick it up with their listening posts, but I’m using a different code…one that I know will bring someone here.”

“And how many people on Deep Space Nine know your codes?”

“Just one,” Tain said. “But he’ll come.”

“You’re sending for Garak,” Julian said.

“Who else?” Tain asked. “Who else would come after me?”

“If you told them I was here…”

“If they got a message saying you’re here, they’d think it was a trap,” Tain said impatiently. “There’s a perfect copy of you on the station. But Garak…he’s clever enough to spot a fake, especially since you two are…close. And even if he hasn’t, he’ll come after me. He always comes after me.”

Julian swallowed. Yes, Garak would come after Tain. For whatever ungodly reason, Garak still wanted to please the man. “You’re right,” he said. “There’s nothing more I can do for you.”

“Then I’d better get back to work,” Tain said. He passed Julian a spanner from under his mattress. “Here. I’ll show you where it is just in case you need it.”

Julian followed Tain to the other side of the room. “You know…” He paused, wondering how much bad news he could give Tain before the man snapped and hit him. “I don’t know how long it will take your message to reach DS9, or how long it will take Garak to get here…you realize you could be dead before he comes.”

Tain gave Julian a long, level look. “He’ll get here,” he said. “And when he does, I’ll be fine. After all, once your starship arrives, you’ll have access to medicine…I know your reputation, Doctor, and I know with better equipment you’ll be able to extend my life a few more years.”

Julian watched as Tain opened a panel in the wall. “Don’t count on it,” he muttered.

*

Never before had Garak been so grateful to live on a space station at the crossroads of the galaxy. Most of the time, it meant a lot of stress and worry in between catering to dozens of customers with horrible tastes. But now, it made an excellent distraction for the Changeling that had taken Julian’s face and life. After all, if he was the Chief Medical Officer of Deep Space Nine, he had to attend to every crisis that erupted, which meant the Changeling was very busy indeed.

That gave Garak time to plan.

He had to operate on the assumption that Julian was alive—otherwise, this would all be pointless. And even if Julian was dead, Garak would expose the Changeling. He wouldn’t let it take his lover’s life forever.

The problem was finding a way to do that. The other problem of Garak’s situation, besides being stuck in the worst part of the galaxy, was that he was the least trusted person on the station; he only had three friends, one of them was missing, and the other two would hardly be of any help to him.

If Julian was alive, he was most likely being held somewhere in the Gamma Quadrant. Getting there was a problem—he could hardly steal a runabout without anyone noticing, and if he tried there was a good chance he’d wind up back in the holding cell on suspicion of intending to commit genocide again. And even if he could get to the Gamma Quadrant, it would take years to figure out where Julian actually was, assuming that he didn’t get caught by the Dominion first.

Well, he obviously couldn’t go alone. So next option: trick the Changeling into exposing himself. Find a crack in the façade that would be too large for everyone to ignore. He needed to observe the Changeling, but keep him distracted enough not to notice Garak observing.

The answer was simple enough. Garak wandered down the Promenade on Tuesday morning to find Ziyal having breakfast with Major Kira.

“Good morning, Ziyal…Major,” Garak said.

Kira greeted him with a polite but sharp nod. Ziyal smiled. “Good morning, Garak,” she said.

“I wonder if you would like to have lunch with me and Dr. Bashir today,” Garak said. “I find myself in need of an ally in defending Darlane’s collected poetry.”

Kira snorted, but Ziyal ignored her. “I’d be delighted,” Ziyal said. “If Dr. Bashir doesn’t mind.”

“On the contrary, he recently expressed an interest in getting to know you better,” Garak said with a smile. “Besides, the Major can hardly object to our meetings if there’s a chaperone in place.”

“Especially when that chaperone is your boyfriend,” Kira said drily.

Ziyal smiled at Garak. “I’d love to have lunch,” she said. “Should I come by your shop?”

“Yes, 1200 hours,” Garak said. He smiled and nodded to the Major before heading toward the infirmary.

The Changeling was there, looking over a computer. He smiled as Garak came in. “Good morning, Garak,” he said. “Everything all right?”

“Oh, just fine, Doctor,” Garak said. “I just wanted to tell you that Ziyal will be joining us for lunch.”

The Changeling frowned. “Oh?”

“Yes,” Garak said. “I would like you to be friends and for you to stop being jealous over a teenage crush that certainly isn’t requited.”

“Oh…yes,” the Changeling said. “I mean…you’re probably right.” The smile came back. “I look forward to it.”

“1200, then,” Garak said, and headed back to his shop.

Lunch went about as well as Garak could expect. The Changeling’s performance was masterful—Garak doubted anyone but him even suspected that anything was wrong. Ziyal was clearly charmed by him, even as she took Garak’s side of the poetry debate. Garak watched the Changeling with a smile, hating him. How dare he sit in Julian’s chair, wearing Julian’s face, laughing with Ziyal and teasing Garak as though he belonged there? Did anyone else even care that this wasn’t their Julian when he was so utterly captivating? Did they really just need a pretty face and empty manners to accept something?

A thought crept into Garak’s mind. What if Julian hadn’t been replaced? What if this was the real Julian, but something had happened to make him forget the last two years? Or what if Julian really had healed and Garak was just too suspicious to accept it? Was he putting his boyfriend off for no reason other than his own suspicious nature?

But no. Watching the Changeling interact with Ziyal, Garak knew that he was right. Julian would never be so friendly to Ziyal. The combination of her being Dukat’s daughter and her bizarre crush on Garak had so far precluded Julian from anything other than mere politeness. Clearly, the Changeling hadn’t gotten that message because it was treating her like she was a regular addition to these lunches.

The only problem was proving it.

*

Days passed, then weeks. Julian attended to Tain, and to Martok and the others who were forced to fight the Jem’Hedar. He opened the wall for Tain every day while the guards were distracted, the Romulans keeping an eye out for anyone approaching.

As promised, Martok was never far away from him, always within earshot, anyway, though Julian never had cause to call for him. Julian was still grateful for the Klingon’s promise, though. It meant he was able to sit in the same room as Tain without fear of what could happen.

The very first night, Martok offered to share his cot. Julian had hesitated, but he trusted that Martok wouldn’t hurt him. They slept back to back, Julian pressed against the wall with Martok between him and the world. No one commented, at least not to their faces; Julian did see the Romulans muttering together and laughing while glancing his way.

All that he could bear. What gnawed on him was the boredom, the starvation, the _waiting._ Waiting for Tain to send the message, for Garak to come…for his inevitable death, if it came to that.

Would Garak come in time? Julian hoped he would. Anything would be better than dying here, surrounded by people who only saw him as Tain’s whore, even if it meant letting Tain go back to Cardassia…then again, Tain had spectacularly failed in everything. Maybe…maybe it would be all right.

A month after Julian had been captured, Tain crawled out of the wall, looking worse than usual. The Romulans helped him to bed as Julian prepared for an examination.

“It’s finished,” Tain said as Julian checked his pulse and breathing. “I’ve sent a message.”

“Good,” the female Romulan said. “We can only hope your friend gets it.”

“He will,” Tain said. “He will come.”

Julian finished his examination. “And not a moment too soon,” he said. “I’m afraid you’re in no state to crawl around the walls anymore. I’m going to have to confine you to bed until we can get out of here.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Tain said. “I suppose it was to be expected…but I did what I set out to do. Now I trust you to ensure I live to see it through.”

“You…” Julian bit back his rage at the idea. “I am a doctor, and I will do what little I can,” he said shortly. “But don’t mistake my obligation as a doctor as forgiveness.”

“Believe me,” Tain muttered as his eyes closed. “That wasn’t even on my mind.”

*

A whole month had gone by and still no one had noticed the switch. Garak hadn’t found a single crack in the veneer, any method of proving that the thing walking around wearing Julian’s face wasn’t Julian. It was all very frustrating.

And then Sisko called him in to decipher a code they had picked up from the Gamma Quadrant, a code Garak hadn’t seen in years.

_Alive._

Tain was alive. Tain was alive in the Gamma Quadrant, alive and able to send a message to him. And while it wasn’t much to go on, it was enough for Garak. After all, if Tain was still alive, even though there was no real benefit to the Dominion, that could mean that Julian was alive. And while the odds of them being in the same place were extremely low, finding Tain would at least be a start.

Of course, finding Tain would mean facing what Tain had done two years before. Garak had almost managed to stop thinking about it—his distraction over the false Julian was enough to keep him occupied for the moment. But now…

Well, he was going to have to deal with it eventually. And Tain was still his father. No matter how many horrible things he had done, Garak would still go to him. He would still go to save him.

And if he could bring Julian back as well, that would only make it more worthwhile.

Unfortunately, the Changeling was already a step ahead of him, waiting in the runabout. Garak cursed himself for not seeing it coming. He tried to persuade the Changeling to go with him, hoping he could force it to take him straight to Tain, or to Julian…but no, it insisted they go to Sisko, and Sisko insisted that Garak be stuck in a runabout with Worf.

Ziyal was not happy about any of it.

“The Gamma Quadrant?” she repeated. “You can’t go to the Gamma Quadrant!”

Such a dear, sweet thing, thinking that her words could persuade him otherwise.

“I can,” Garak said. “And I will. I have to.” _Don’t make this harder on me, don’t make me hesitate to save him. Not again._

“But if something were to happen to you, I don't know what I'd do,” she said, her eyes wide and pleading.

“Oh, I'm sure you could find someone else to eat your meals with,” Garak said airily. “Not that you'll have to. I fully intend to return.”

“It’s not just the meals.”

“I know. I’m the only other Cardassian on the station.” _Silly girl, don’t fall in love with me. Terrible things happen to people who love me._

“It's not that, either,” she said. “And you know it. It's just that you're intelligent and cultured...and kind.”

 _Oh, my sweet summer child, if only you knew what my kindness did to the last person to love me._ “My dear, you’re young, so I realize you’re a poor judge of character.”

“Why do you always make fun of my feelings for you?” she demanded.

 _Because they’re going to get you hurt._ “My dear, you know that I’ve been in a relationship with Doctor Bashir for over a year now.”

She nodded. “I know,” she said. “Though…you haven’t been acting like it lately.”

He could tell her. Let her know that this Bashir was fake and she needed to expose him, that this was part of the reason he had to get to the Gamma Quadrant—surely she’d understand that.

“It’s…complicated,” Garak finally said. “It always has been with us…please don’t complicate it anymore with your misguided affections.”

“But we can be friends!” she burst out. “If that's what you think, why do you spend so much time with me?”

God, how Garak hated talking about feelings. It was hard enough with Julian; how was he supposed to explain to someone as young as Ziyal why her affection was a terrible idea?

“Because I'm exiled, alone and a long way from home,” he finally said. “And when I'm with you...it doesn't seem so bad.” There. That should satisfy her enough to let him go.

“I’m glad I can help.”

He forced himself to smile. “Ziyal, no matter what happens, no matter how bleak things might look, I promise you, I will come back. I give you my word.” He would come back, with Tain and Julian. What they would all do after that was anyone’s guess, but he would find them.

“I believe you.”

Unfortunately, Dukat chose that moment to appear and kick up a fuss. Garak had a bit of fun goading him, but even that moment of levity faded quickly once he had left the scene.

*

“Rations have been cut.”

The other prisoners only slumped, dejected. Julian looked up, furious.

“Cut again?” he snapped at the Jem’Hedar guard. “We barely eat enough as it is!”

The guard glowered at him. “Do you believe you’re worthy of more?” he asked.

“We’re already dying in here!” Julian exclaimed. “They fight every day and we’re starving, and I won’t take this anymore!”

“Doctor…” Martok began.

The guard glared some more before he stepped over and backhanded Julian across the face, knocking him to the ground.

“Now, now,” the Vorta who followed said. “No need for that.” The Vorta looked down at Julian, who was picking himself back up. “Put him in isolation. Perhaps that will teach him gratitude.”

The guard nodded and grabbed Julian’s arm. Julian tried to struggle, but it was no use as he was dragged out of the barracks into another cold, sterile room.

The guard flung him inside and closed the door. Julian threw himself at it, but it was no use, solid steel like everything else. He pounded on it for several minutes, but finally gave up as his strength waned.

He paced around the small space for a while, trying to stay active. In here, there were no patients to treat, no help to be given for their escape. In here, all that existed was Julian and his thoughts.

He didn’t want to think.

Three weeks. Three weeks locked away with Tain, with everyone around him knowing what had been done to him. Three weeks of forcing himself not to remember every time he opened the wall, of keeping himself from shaking all through the night so he wouldn’t bother Martok. Three weeks of waiting for Garak to come and rescue him from this nightmare…

But Garak would come. The signal had been sent. Garak would tell Sisko that Tain was alive and Sisko…well, if nothing else, Sisko would want to make Tain answer for what he had done.

And if anyone could spot that the Bashir on the station was a fake, it was Garak. Perhaps he had already worked it all out. Maybe Garak had told Sisko that Julian was missing and Tain’s message was a clue to finding him. Sisko was probably on the way with the Defiant right now, looking for him, prepared to blow up the asteroid…

That was ridiculous. Garak played everything too close. He’d blown up his own shop rather than ask Odo to help with an assassin; he certainly wouldn’t ask Sisko to help him carry out a rescue attempt in the Gamma Quadrant, at least not without some elaborate plot to make Sisko think it was his idea. More likely, though, Garak would come in with some half-baked plan that he mostly intended to finish making as he went along.

Julian finally stopped pacing and sat down against the wall, curling up to try and warm himself. He just needed to stay calm. Stay calm and not aggravate the guards.

_Hydrogen. Atomic number 1. Atomic mass 1.0079. Symbol H. Group 1. Electron configuration 1s 1 .  Helium. Atomic number 2. Atomic mass 4.0026. Symbol He. Group 18. Electron configuration 1s2. Lithium. Atomic number 3. Atomic mass 6.941. Symbol Li. Group 1. Electron configuration [He]2s1…_

Slowly, Julian drifted off to sleep, counting elements in his head.

*

As it turned out, Worf was about as good a travelling companion as Odo was. Fortunately, he also had far less experience figuring Garak out, which left plenty of room for entertainment.

“You want me to sponsor your application to Starfleet Academy?” Worf sounded disturbed by the idea.

“What do you think?” Garak asked.

“I think it’s a bad idea.”

“I’d write the actual letter,” Garak said. “All you’d have to do is sign it.”

“Find someone else,” Worf snapped.

“Why?” Garak asked, wondering just how far he could take this. “Because I'm a Cardassian? You're a Klingon...Nog is a Ferengi. Starfleet Academy is a very accepting place.” _Let’s find out if every Starfleet officer is as sweetly naïve as Julian._

“You are not just a Cardassian,” Worf said. “You are a spy. An assassin. A saboteur.”

 _A traitor, a torturer, and so much more._ Garak put on a hurt expression. “I know I've done some unfortunate things in the past,” he said. “And I regret them.” _More than you’ll ever understand, you’ve never done a dishonorable thing in your life. You’d never hurt Dax the way I hurt Julian, no matter what the stakes._ “That's why I want to join Starfleet. Why I need to join Starfleet. I'm looking for a fresh start...a way to make up for all the damage I've done.” _As if Starfleet would change it. As if putting on a uniform would make me forgive myself._ “To prove to myself that I can be better than I am. But I need your help...your support to start me on my way...to redemption.” _There’s no redemption for me, no making up for what I’ve done…not just Julian, all of it. Odo…everyone on Cardassia…_

Worf was quiet for a moment. “If that’s how you feel, I will…consider your request.”

 _Ah, Federation values win out yet again!_ Garak gave him a small smile. “That’s all I ask…Personally, I think I could be quite an asset to Starfleet. With my extensive experience I should be able to skip the lower ranks entirely and begin my career as a Commander.” _He should catch on now._ “Maybe you should suggest that in your letter...tell them you'd be honored to serve under me.”

Worf grabbed Garak by the collar and glared. “Do not play games with me. You have no desire to join Starfleet, do you?”

 _As if I would ever desire to be as foolish as you are._ “No. I’m afraid I don’t.”

Worf pushed him away. “Then what is the point of this deception?”

“Lying is a skill like any other,” Garak said. “If you want to maintain a level of excellence, you have to practice constantly.”

“Practice on someone else,” Worf snapped.

“Mister Worf, you are no fun at all,” Garak said.

“Good.”

Garak rolled his eyes and sighed. Even teasing Worf didn’t alleviate the worry knotting in his gut.

*

_Hand squeezing his throat, knife slicing his back open, heat, weight, terrible weight…_

No, not now. If he was going to be locked away for long, he couldn’t start thinking about that now. How long had he been in here? It couldn’t have been more than a few hours, but

_“I don’t want to do this to you…but he needs to see…you’re a weakness he can’t have…”_

Shut up, shut up! Focus on something else.

_Scandium. Atomic number 21. Atomic mass 44.9559. Group 3. Electron configuration…_

Not enough, not good enough. Too easy for him, for his perfect brain without the shock of a recent attack.

_Forced into his mouth, choking, crying, bleeding, humiliated…_

Julian screamed and banged the back of his head against the wall. “Let me out!” he screamed. “Please, let me out of here!”

If anyone heard him, they didn’t answer. Julian jumped up and ran to the door, pounding on it. “Let me out!” he screamed again. “Don’t lock me in here with him!”

_“I’m sorry, Julian…I’m so, so sorry…”_

“LET ME OUT!”

There was no answer, of course there wasn’t. There was nothing, he was trapped, trapped in this prison, this room, in his own head. Julian collapsed, curling into himself, whimpering and screaming, clawing at his own face, get them out, get the memories OUT, get him out…

An answering pounding on the door broke him from the fit. Julian turned over and scrambled into a sitting position, hoping it was someone coming to get him.

The door slid open. The Vorta looked down at Julian contemptuously. “Can you please quiet down?” he asked crossly. “What’s so bad in here you need to scream about it?”

“Please…” Julian gasped, his voice raw from screaming. “Please, let me out, I won’t complain about anything again…”

The Vorta sighed. “I don’t think so,” he said. “You’ll stay in here as long as I say…and if you continue that racket, I’ll make it longer.” He gave Julian another harsh look and closed the door again.

Julian started to cry out, then stopped himself. He couldn’t stay here, he _wouldn’t_ stay here, any longer than necessary. He had to get out. If he was locked away when Garak came, there was no guarantee he’d be found in time.

He took several shuddering breaths. He needed to stay calm, stay present. Slowly, he started again.

_Titanium. Atomic number 22. Atomic mass 47.867. Group 4. Electron configuration [Ar] 3d 2 4s2…_

*

“I don't see why these runabout replicators can't provide a more varied menu,” Garak commented. “I would like to get my hands on this fellow Earl Grey and tell him a thing or two about tea leaves.”

Worf ignored him, as usual. Garak had just turned to head back to his seat when the runabout suddenly slowed.

“We've dropped out of warp,” Garak said. “Is something wrong?” _Don’t stop, we can’t stop, we have to find them…_

“We can go no further,” Worf said.

“What do you mean?” Garak felt panic rising in his chest. They couldn’t abandon the quest now! He couldn’t leave the Changeling to carry out his nefarious plan, whatever that might be.

“My readings show that the source of the coded signal is deep in Dominion space,” Worf said. “I have strict orders to avoid unnecessary risk. We must turn back.”

_No, no, I can’t leave him! Not again!_

“Believe me, I have no desire to take an unnecessary risk,” Garak said, calmer than he felt. “But according to our sensors, there's no sign of Jem'Hadar warships in this area.”

“True,” Worf said. “But the likelihood of contact will increase from this point on. And my orders were very clear.”

 _Damn your orders!_ “But we’ve come all this way,” Garak said. “To turn around without an answer…it seems so…un-Klingon.” There. That should work to shame Worf into continuing.

“I am also a Starfleet officer.”

Of course. Those silly Starfleet morals getting in the way again. Garak studied the starchart, hoping to find a compromise. “What if we go through this nebula?” he asked. “We could use it to avoid detection and get light years closer to the source of the transmission.”

Worf thought for a moment. “Our shields would be useless inside that nebula.”

“But so would Jem’Hedar sensors.” Garak gave Worf a pleading look. _Don’t make me abandon them, don’t make me leave Julian to Tain’s mercy again._ “The answer is out there, commander. We just have to have the courage to find it. Remember, it's not just Tain we're looking for. The Maryland, the Proxima, the Sarajevo...Starfleet ships that have been missing in the Gamma Quadrant for years. And their crews, brave soldiers...warriors of the Federation...unaccounted for. We owe it to them to do everything in our power to find them...and bring them home.”

_Julian’s out there. Julian’s out there and he needs me and I can’t just leave him. I owe it to him, I need to bring him home, don’t make me fight you again, Worf, I can’t take it, just please help me…_

“It is the honorable thing to do.”

If that didn’t work, nothing would.

Worf glared at him. “You use that word, but you have no idea what it means.”

 _Of course I don’t, I never have, I have none._ “Maybe not. But you do.”

Worf glared for another minute before he sighed. “Setting course for the nebula.”

They flew into the nebula. Garak was confident this could work, that they could make it through, that they would find Tain and possibly Julian and it would all be worth it.

Of course it wasn’t. Of course there were Jem’Hedar ships sitting in the nebula waiting for them. They flew as fast as they could, but there was no shaking the warships following them. Worf sent a message off, but Garak knew that they, at least, were lost.

The runabout was pulled into a tractor beam and the Jem’Hedar came aboard. It was over. They had failed. Garak opened his mouth, but then he was hit on the head and everything went black.

*

Perhaps it would have been easier if he and Garak hadn’t been so tense recently.

Julian had tried to forgive him, of course. He knew that Tain meant a great deal to Garak, though he didn’t know why. He knew Garak didn’t have the same morals a Federation officer did. He knew that, realistically, destroying the Founders would have probably saved the Alpha Quadrant a whole lot of trouble, even if it meant that they would die as well.

All of that had made it easy to go back to Garak. Or at least, Julian told himself that, trying to convince himself that going back wasn’t a terrible thing.

He knew the real reason he’d fallen back into Garak’s arms the moment his sentence was over.

_He and Leeta had been dating steadily for six months. Before that, they’d been on and off for almost a year, carrying on a sort-of affair in all the times Julian couldn’t stand Garak’s presence anymore. Leeta had known that, and while she couldn’t see the appeal of a Cardassian, she didn’t object._

_But with Garak locked away and Julian so angry, it had been easy to make his fling with Leeta into something more._

_Or so he told himself. And for the first five months, it had been like that. But slowly, it stopped working. Julian hated to admit it, but he grew distant from her. There were many reasons—they had nothing in common, their schedules were both too busy, he still had hang-ups about sex that his counselor hadn’t managed to work him through yet…_

_Leeta hit on the real reason._

_“You’re still in love with him,” she said, not angry, calm, but blunt. “For whatever reason, you still love Garak.”_

_Julian couldn’t look at her. “I suppose I am,” he said. “God knows I shouldn’t be, but…”_

_“You can’t help being in love with someone,” she said. “Even if he’s…well…”_

_“Cardassian?”_

_“It’s more than him being Cardassian,” Leeta said. “You wouldn’t be this hesitant if it was just a matter of race.”_

_She hadn’t known, of course. Julian didn’t tell her about Tain, even though she probably would have understood better than anyone. All he’d told her about Garak was that their relationship was “complicated,” which barely covered it._

_“I can’t go back to him, Leeta…I love him, but I can’t…”_

_“Julian.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m not saying you have to go back to him. But I’m saying that you deserve to be with someone you really love…and I deserve to be more than a side-girl.” She kissed him, gentle and tender and not at all sexy. “Whatever you choose to do later, we both know that this isn’t going to work…so why should we be stuck trying to make this work when we could be happy with other people?”_

_She was right. As soon as they broke the bowl and their relationship on Risa, Julian felt freer. And then, when Garak come back from holding…_

He knew he shouldn’t have gone back, but he did. They returned to normal, lunch on Tuesday, dinner on Wednesday, walks on the Promenade, the occasional visit to the holosuite for adventures…and absolutely nothing else.

It wasn’t as easy as it had been, but it was enough. And right now, stuck in his own head, Julian would gladly go back to that, no matter how awkward it was.

*

The prison was clean, cold and absolutely miserable. Garak tuned out most of the welcome speech, too busy with his own tumultuous thoughts. They had failed. They hadn’t found Tain, they hadn’t found Julian, and now they were stuck here, on a rock on the other side of the galaxy, with an armada standing between them and any sort of rescue.

He barely noticed where they were going until they reached a circle of Jem’Hedar, watching a fight between one of their number and a Klingon.

Garak heard Worf’s intake of breath. “General Martok,” Worf said.

Martok looked terrible, exhausted, missing an eye, injured and losing the fight. Garak and Worf watched until the Jem’Hedar First declared the fight over. The Jem’Hedar walked away and Worf immediately went to Martok’s side. Garak followed.

“General,” Worf said.

“Do I know you?” Martok asked.

“I am Worf, son of Mogh,” Worf said.

Martok nodded. “I’ve heard of you.”

“How long have you been here?” Garak asked.

“Two years,” Martok answered. He struggled to his feet, barely able to stand on his own, but his face clearly told Garak he didn’t want help.

“Aren’t you Klingons supposed to kill yourselves when you’re taken prisoner?” Garak asked.

“Not when there are enemies to fight,” Worf said.

“Or hope of escape,” Martok added.

 _Hope…_ what hope did they have? Martok studied them carefully.

“If you are Worf…then you must be Garak,” Martok said. “He said you would come.”

He…it must have been Tain. Perhaps Garak hadn’t failed after all. In a daze, he followed Martok into the barracks.

Inside were two Romulans, a Breen, and there…there was Tain, unconscious and looking terribly ill.

“Tain,” Garak breathed.

“What’s wrong with him?” Worf asked.

“It’s his heart,” Martok said.

Garak barely stopped himself from snorting. “Really,” he muttered. “There are a lot of people who’d say he doesn’t have one.” _Myself included,_ he thought.

Martok hummed in agreement, but only said, “He was convinced you would come.”

“He knew I had no choice.” He moved toward Tain, his heart once again in turmoil. “Tain…Tain, I’m here.”

Slowly, Tain’s eyes opened and focused on Garak. “My message…it got through.”

Garak nodded. “It did.”

Tain glanced around. “Where are the others?”

“There are no others,” Garak said, feeling like a young agent once again, a young agent disappointing his superior. “Just Commander Worf and I.” He felt so small, so stupid…

“You allowed yourself to be taken prisoner,” Tain said in disappointment. Garak felt his insides shrivel in shame. “I taught you better than that. Living on that station has dulled your wits.”

Shame was quickly replaced with anger. “That's it? After I've come all this way? After all I've been through? That's all you have to say to me?”

Tain sighed impatiently. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say ‘Thank you, Elim. Your loyalty is most gratifying. I knew I could count on you.’” It was ridiculous, but Garak was done with this, done with Tain. Let him be disappointed—Garak had tried, Garak had done everything he’d been asked and more, and all he’d ever gotten was scorn and heartbreak.

“But I couldn't count on you, could I?” Tain asked. “All you've done is doom us both.” His eyes closed again.

Garak wanted to scream. He wanted to shake Tain awake and shout at him, wanted to kill the man where he lay and put them both out of their misery. He wanted to rage and fight and destroy everyone in this place…but he couldn’t. All he could do was stare down at the man he admired, the man he’d tried to love as a son should, so weak…so…ordinary.

“How did you get us a message?” Worf asked.

“Before this asteroid was converted into a prison, the Dominion used to mine ultritium here,” Martok explained. “There was no dome and each of these barracks had its own life support system embedded in the walls.”

Garak understood. He knew how Tain’s mind worked. “And Tain was able to modify the life support system to create a subspace transmitter?”

Martok nodded. “There's a crawl space just behind those panels. He'd spend hours in there, working. Every day for months on end. Cardassians. They're a clever people. Especially that one.”

_Clever, ruthless, cruel, cold…_

“But within a few days, at best, he will be dead.”

 _And good riddance,_ Garak couldn’t help but think, though part of him still cried out in protest, that it was too soon, that there was still so much he needed to say, so much he needed to hear from Tain…

“Then it is up to us to be clever,” Worf said.

Just then, one of the Romulans came running in. “They’re releasing him from isolation,” she said.

“Good,” Martok said.

“Who?” Worf asked.

Garak’s breath caught. Could he dare hope—?

“A friend,” Martok said. They headed outside and lined up with the other prisoners. Garak watched, hoping…

And sure enough, a door opened and one of the guards dragged Julian out. Garak wanted to see Worf’s expression, but he couldn’t look away. Julian looked miserable, his uniform dirty, his face unshaven with several fading scratches. Garak wanted to rush to him, take him in his arms, kiss him and apologize for taking so long. He wanted to kill every Jem’Hedar and take Julian away from here, back home. Isolation…for how long? How long had Julian spent locked away with nothing but his own thoughts?

Julian spotted him and his mouth quirked into a bitter half-smile. The guards shoved Julian towards the others and stalked off. Only then, the guards gone and the other prisoners wandering off, did Garak dare go to him. He didn’t touch Julian—five weeks, locked in here with Tain? He didn’t dare think what Julian’s mental state must have been.

“My dear,” Garak breathed. “Are you all right?”

“I’ve been better,” Julian said. “You?”

Garak shrugged. “They haven’t been too rough.”

Worf looked less than pleased. “You were on the station when we left,” he said.

“A Changeling,” Julian said. “Here…come back inside, I’ll prove it.”

They trooped back into the barracks and sat down. Julian sharpened a bit of metal and pricked his finger before passing it around. They all squeezed a drop of blood out.

“B-negative, if you’re wondering,” Julian said.

“It seems we are all who we appear to be,” Martok said.

“If the blood screenings can be trusted,” Worf muttered.

“They’re all we’ve got,” Julian said.

“What about the others?” Garak asked. It suddenly occurred to him that the Changelings might like to have an infiltrator in their prisons to make sure the prisoners weren’t plotting an escape. “Have you tested them as well?”

“Everyone except the Breen,” Julian said. “No blood.”

“When were you brought here?” Garak asked. He had a pretty good idea, of course, but he needed to be sure.

“Over a month ago,” Julian said. “I was at that burn treatment conference on Meezan Four. I went to bed one night... and woke up here.”

So it was how Garak thought.

“The same thing happened to me,” Martok said. “Except I was hunting Sabre bear on Kang's Summit. Little did I know that I was being stalked as well. And now I'm told the changeling that replaced me has caused the death of countless Klingons. It is a grave dishonor.”

“You are not to blame,” Worf said.

“I can only imagine what my replacement is up to on the station,” Julian said.

“I have been thinking the same thing,” Worf said. “We have to escape... warn Captain Sisko before that Changeling carries out his mission.”

They fell silent. Garak stared forward. In his haste to find Tain and Julian, it hadn’t even occurred to him to wonder what the Changeling on DS9 was plotting.

After a minute, Julian glanced at Martok. “If you don’t mind, I need out of this room,” he said.

“Do you want me to accompany you?” Martok asked.

“That’s all right,” Julian said. “Garak…can you come with me?”

Garak nodded, a bit puzzled. They rose and left the room.

*

They walked quietly. Julian felt more easy now that he was out of isolation…now that Garak was here.

“Why did Martok ask to accompany you?” Garak asked.

Julian let out a breath. “Tain told the others what he did to me,” he said. “Some of the other Cardassians took that as an invitation…they…they tried to...but Martok stopped them. He offered to protect me from them…and he’s done so. He’s been a good friend to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Garak said. “I knew it wasn’t you, but I couldn’t prove it…I barely dared think you were still alive…I should have come immediately…you shouldn’t have been left here with him for so long…”

“I’m fine,” Julian insisted. “He can’t hurt me now…I don’t think he’ll last the night, I haven’t been able to look at him lately.”

“You’re under no obligation to help him,” Garak pointed out.

“I’m still a doctor,” Julian said. “And he was the only hope we had.”

“I never should have come here,” Garak said bitterly. “I should've let that monster die alone and forgotten.”

Julian gave a small smile. “Frankly, I’m glad you came,” he said, and he meant it. “Misery loves company.” _And I love you. If nothing else, I’m glad I got to see you one more time._

Garak made an impatient noise. “My whole life, I've done nothing but try to please that man,” he snapped. “I let him mold me, turn me into a mirror image of himself. And how did he repay me? With exile. But I forgave him, for everything, even the things he doesn’t deserve forgiveness for. And now, here at the end, I thought maybe, just maybe, he could forgive me.”

Julian snorted. “He’s not the forgiving type,” he said bitterly. “So many times, I was ready to take the metal we used for the blood screenings and stab him in the heart…so many days I listened to him rattle around in the walls and I was tempted to close off the crawlspace and leave him there to suffocate…you may have forgiven him, and that’s your business, but I haven’t…and he’s not sorry, and he’s not going to forgive you.”

“I was a fool,” Garak said. “Let this be a lesson to you, doctor...perhaps the most valuable I can teach you...Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all.”

Julian shook his head. “If that's true, then it's a lesson I don't want to learn.”

_I’m still in love with you. Now more than ever._

Just then, Martok came into the courtyard. “I thought you might want to know,” he said. “If you wish to speak to Tain...do it now. Before it's too late.”

Garak looked at Julian. A silent conversation passed between them.

_I have to speak to him._

_I know._

_Come with me._

_I can’t._

_You need to. You need to see that monster die._

Slowly, Julian nodded. They both turned and went into the barracks. Julian quietly sat down across the room while Garak went to Tain.

“Elim…” Tain called. “Elim, is that you?”

“It’s me,” Garak said.

“Everything’s gone dark,” Tain said. “I can’t see you…are you alone?”

Garak gave Julian a swift look before turning back to Tain. “Yes. There’s no one here but you and me.” He sat down. Julian couldn’t read his expression, and part of him didn’t want to.

“Surjak, Memad, Brun...” Tain said, suddenly frantic. “They can't be trusted. They must be dealt with.”

“I’ve already taken care of it,” Garak said.

“What about Gul Vorlem?” Tain asked. “Have you been able to contact him?”

“Years ago,” Garak said.

“The Romulan ambassador?”

“Gone. All of your enemies are dead.”

It sounded like a platitude, but Julian couldn’t blame Garak for that.

“Good,” Tain said. “A man shouldn’t allow his enemies to outlive him.”

“Then you can die happy,” Garak said. “Unless you still consider me an enemy.”

Tain ignored him. “Elim…promise me one thing.”

“I’m listening.”

“Don’t die here. Escape…live.”

“Let me guess,” Garak said. “So I can make the Dominion pay for what they've done to you.” He sounded so bitter. Julian wished he hadn’t been bade silence so he could comfort his lover.

“You wouldn’t deny an old man his revenge, would you?”

“I'll do as you ask, on one condition.” Garak looked to Julian. _Here is your answer. Here is the reason I forgave him for what he did to me…for what he’s done to you. Here’s the reason I kept fighting for him long after he deserved it. Here’s the reason I let you suffer at his hands for the last two years._ “That you don't ask me this favor as a mentor, or a superior officer...but as a father asking his son.”

Julian sat, dumbstruck. The pieces slid into place. All that misery, all the hate mixed with love, all of Garak’s mysteries…well, not all, but enough. Julian stared at them, his head in more turmoil than ever. Unbidden, his mind supplied a response. _My only love, the son of my only hate…_

“You’re not my son,” Tain muttered.

Garak’s expression was no longer difficult—he looked more vulnerable, more distraught than ever. “Father, you're dying. For once in your life, speak the truth.”

Tain looked…it was strange, seeing so many complicated emotions flit across a face that had always been so empty. “I should have killed your mother before you were born. You've always been a weakness I can't afford.”

Julian knew it was only Garak’s impeccable control that was preventing tears. “So you've told me. Many times. Enabran, listen to me. All I ask is that for this moment, let me be your son.”

_Let this all be worth it, all the pain, all the complications, all the loss…_

“Elim, remember that day... in the country,” Tain said. “You must've been almost five.”

“How can I forget it?” Garak asked. “It was the only day.”

_The only day…in over forty years, only one day…_

“I can still see you... on the back of that riding hound.” Tain sounded peaceful. Kind. Gone was the monster Julian knew. Gone was the spymaster, the torturer. All that was left was an old man and his son. “You must've fallen off a dozen times. But you wouldn't give up.”

“I remember limping home,” Garak said. “You held my hand.”

Who would have thought Elim Garak could sound wistful?

“I was very proud of you, that day.”

Tain’s hand fell limp. Julian rose and moved towards them, feeling very wrong-footed…numb.

Garak stared at Tain, his face that of a child’s. Julian stared at the scene for a moment. The monster was dead—he’d seen it happen, he was free, he had nothing to fear…and he felt nothing. No righteous anger, no relief, no joy, just a vague numbness and overwhelming sorrow for his lover, who looked so broken…so conflicted…

“Garak,” Julian murmured. He reached out his hand. Garak grasped it for a moment before he turned back and covered Tain’s face with the blanket.

“He’s gone,” Garak muttered. “You’re safe now.”

“Don’t…” Julian struggled. “I can’t…later,” he finally said. “We’ll figure this out later.”

There was movement from behind them as Worf and Martok came back inside. Garak stood up and turned to him, his face once again the cold mask of an Obsidian Order agent.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but my business here is done.”

“Then I suggest we find a way out of here,” Worf said.

*

The Jem’Hedar dragged Tain’s body away upon Julian’s report that he was dead. Garak didn’t know what they would do with it, and frankly he didn’t care. In the end, it didn’t matter what happened to the body, so far from home. Back on Cardassia, it would have been a grand funeral, a day of mourning throughout the empire. But they were on the other side of the galaxy. Tain was disgraced, forgotten. There was no one to mourn him, no one who would even care that he was dead except for Garak.

It was the hardest thing in the world to fight down the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Garak wanted nothing more than to curl up and cry, cry for Tain, cry for the little boy who had been so lost, cry for Julian…but he couldn’t do that. Right now, he had to get himself, and Julian, and the others out of this prison, if there was a way.

The female Romulan stood at the door, keeping an eye on the guards. “All clear,” she said.

Worf turned to Martok. “The transmitter Tain used to contact the station. Where is it?”

Martok and Julian went to the now-empty bunk and pushed it aside. Julian pulled a tool from under the mattress and inserted it into a nearly-invisible crack in the wall, pulling it open. Martok reached in and pulled another panel away, revealing a tiny hole. It was clear they had done this many times before.

“You have to crawl through the hole and kind of slide up into the wall,” Julian said.

“It took him over a year to modify the old life-support system into a transmitter,” Martok said.

“How did he operate it?” Worf asked.

“He wired the message and transmission coordinates directly into the system circuitry,” Martok said. “That way all he had to do was connect the transmitter to the power grid and let it run.”

“Could the coordinates and message be changed?” Worf asked.

Garak caught on. “You're planning to contact the runabout.”

Worf nodded. “We could activate the transporters, beam ourselves onto the ship...”

“And run like hell,” Julian finished.

“Re-encoding the transmitter won't be easy,” Garak said. “We'll have to reconfigure the array, one circuit at a time.” It would take days, weeks even. Garak didn’t envy whoever was going to have to do it.

“Can you do it?” Julian asked.

“Me?” Garak said. He looked at the wall, fear suddenly clenching his chest.

“I'm no engineer and neither is Mister Worf,” Julian said. “But you, my dear Garak, are a man of many hidden talents.”

_No…don’t make me go in there…don’t lock me up in there…_

Did he have a choice? Maybe this was what he deserved. Julian had been locked up with Tain for a month…what were a few days in the wall compared to that?

“If you can’t do it, no one can,” Julian said, his voice gentle.

“It’s nice to feel needed,” Garak muttered.

Before they could argue, the com sounded. “All prisoners assemble immediately.”

Quick as a whip, Julian and Martok put the wall back together and hid their tool.

“I repeat, all prisoners assemble immediately.”

They all headed outside, wondering what was next. Garak had a feeling it was nothing good. They all lined up, ordered and silent. Julian caught Garak’s hand for a brief moment and gave it a small squeeze, just enough to reassure him.

A Vorta paced in front of them. Martok whispered his name to Worf before a Jem’Hedar told them to be quiet.

“All Cardassian prisoners, step forward,” the Vorta, Deyos, said.

Garak blinked, then stepped up with the rest of his fellows. He recognized a few of them, but said nothing.

“I am pleased to announce that the hostilities between our peoples have ended,” Deyos said. There were some looks of surprise, but the Vorta continued. “As of today, Cardassia has joined the Dominion. Therefore, you are all being sent home. Congratulations on your new status as Dominion citizens.”

Shock coursed through Garak. He glanced back. Martok and Worf looked as shocked as he did, but Garak had eyes only for Julian. Julian met his eye and nodded.

_You have to leave. Go back to the station, tell Sisko what happened to us. Come back with a proper rescue. This time, you won’t save me by staying. This time, you have to go._

Garak nodded back and turned to go.

Before he had taken more than one step, though, Deyos intercepted him. “Not you, Mister Garak.”

“Excuse me?” Garak asked.

“You’re staying.”

“Perhaps there's been some sort of misunderstanding,” Garak said. “The last time I checked, I was a Cardassian.” _Let me go. Send me home before I punch your stupid, smug face._

“But not a very popular one, I'm afraid,” Deyos said. “At least not with the head of the new Cardassian government.”

Of course. “And who would that be?” Garak asked.

“Gul Dukat,” Deyos said.

Of course. Of fucking course…

Well, nothing for it. Garak nodded once and turned back to the others.

“Dismissed,” Deyos said to the remaining prisoners.

They went back to the barracks. As soon as they were inside, Garak turned and punched the wall.

“Garak!” Julian was at his side, looking rather alarmed. “You’ll break your hand, and then…”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” Garak said. “Just knowing that…that…bastard sold our people to the Dominion…!”

“I know, Garak, but right now isn’t the time for that,” Julian said. “We can still get out of this, we just need to stick to the plan!”

Garak took several breaths. “You’re right,” he said. He nodded to the Romulan woman, who took her post by the door. “Keep an eye out. I’m going in.”

She looked outside. “Clear,” she said.

Julian and Martok opened the wall. Garak looked inside for a moment before he took a deep breath and crawled inside.

It was tight, barely enough room to move. It didn’t take long for him to slide up to where a light had been wired in. It was flickering and unreliable, but it was enough for Garak to see the wiring Tain had done. Standard rewiring, but it would be tricky to redo.

A wire behind him spark and sent a shock through his body. Garak flinched, but then focused. He took up the wires and got to work.

*

Worf sat down next to Julian. They didn’t look at each other for a long moment before Worf spoke. “General Martok told me what you’ve been through,” he said.

Julian let out a breath of air. “Everything?” he asked.

“I am sorry,” Worf said. “If that…if I had known, I would not have cared for his condition. I would have taken him to a field of battle and…”

“Worf.” Julian turned and looked at him. “It’s over…he’s dead. I’m all right…no one here’s touched me…at least, not since that first day. Martok’s seen to that. You don’t need to defend my honor from anyone.”

They fell quiet for a moment. “How do you feel?” Worf asked suddenly.

Julian couldn’t help but laugh. “What?” he repeated.

“You’ve been trapped in a prison with your abuser for a month,” Worf said. “He may be dead, but that doesn’t leave you. I felt I should ask.”

“I’m…” Julian hesitated. “Well…it was years ago,” he said. “And…right now, I’m okay. Really,” he added at Worf’s skeptical expression. “Right now, all I’m worried about is getting out of here. I think once we’ve gotten back…I probably won’t be okay then. But if I can focus on escape, I’ll be fine.”

Worf nodded and they were silent again.

“How long has he been in there?” Julian asked a while later.

“Close to an hour,” Worf said.

Julian went to the opening. “Garak? How’s it coming?”

There were a few slight thumps before Garak answered. “I only wish I were still in the Obsidian Order. This would make a wonderful interrogation chamber.” There was another thump. “Tight quarters, no air, bad lighting, random electric shocks. It's perfect.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Julian called up.

“If you'd like, I'd happily trade places with you.”

“I suppose you could give me a crash course in Cardassian field engineering,” Julian said. “I'd probably be ready to take over from you in...five or six weeks.” _More like five or six days if he talked fast,_ he couldn’t help but think.

“Visitors,” the Romulan called.

In a moment, the panel was closed and the Jem’Hedar were coming in.

Julian didn’t listen to whatever they were saying, too focused on keeping the tool hidden and praying Garak would be quiet. He watched as Worf and Martok went out to fight the Jem’Hedar, but even then he couldn’t re-open the wall since one guard elected to stay nearby.

They waited, several long, interminable minutes before the guard finally moved off. The moment he was gone, Julian opened the wall again.

Finally, finally, Garak came down. He looked wretched, pale and sweaty. Julian pulled him to a bed and started checking him over.

“That…was thoroughly unpleasant,” Garak said.

“Are you all right?” Julian asked, already knowing the answer.

“I'm fine,” Garak said. “It's just...hotter in there than I thought. I got a little lightheaded. Give me a minute and I'll go back in.”

“You need more than a minute,” Julian said. “Your pulse is racing. And I don't even want to think about your blood pressure. Maybe you should wait until tomorrow.”

“Do you want to get off this hellhole or not?” Garak snapped.

“You know I do,” Julian said.

Their eyes met, a silent war.

_You’re no good to us like this._

_I need to save you. Just once, let me be the hero._

_You can’t be the hero if you’re falling apart._

“Then let me get back to work.”

“Rest for five minutes,” Julian said. It was the best compromise he could come up with. “And from here on in you take a fifteen minute break every hour. Doctor's orders.”

Garak sighed and nodded. Julian sat down beside him. After a moment, he took Garak’s hand.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

“Oh, my darling,” Garak murmured. “All I could think of was finding you…all those weeks, I watched a Changeling live your life and all I wanted was to save you…please…let me.”

“You will,” Julian said. “You’re going to save us all. I believe in you…you just have to give yourself time.”

*

For the first day, it was tolerable. Not great, but tolerable. Garak was able to get much of the rewiring done, in spite of his fear.

The second day, he wasn’t so lucky. The light, no doubt something Tain had scavenged, started flickering, and then finally went out all together.

He tried. He tried to keep working, to keep himself together. He told himself that the others needed him, that Ziyal was counting on him to get back, that Julian was in danger…

Garak couldn’t help it. He tried to turn, banging on the walls. He couldn’t think, couldn’t hear anything but his own racing thoughts.

_Get me out! Don’t leave me in here like this, don’t let me die like this! Let me out! I need air, just let me go! Tain, please let me go!_

He didn’t know how long he was in there, trying to escape, before Julian appeared beside him.

“Garak…Garak.”

Slowly, his thoughts quieted and he could focus on Julian. “The light…the light went out.”

“I know.” Julian was so gentle, so calm. “Come on. I think you can take your break a little early.”

Slowly, he guided Garak down and out of the wall. Once they were free, Garak breathed a little easier, though his head was still gone off somewhere. He was dimly aware of Julian guiding him to a bed, lying him down and putting a blanket over him.

He stared straight ahead, huddled in his blanket. He heard voices around him, but he couldn’t understand them. Eventually, they fell silent. Garak felt someone approach, then a hand on his shoulder.

“My darling,” Julian murmured into his ear. “You did so well…I’m so sorry for putting you through that.” Garak felt the brush of lips on his cheeks. There was a pause, then he felt Julian sit down behind him. Garak moved a bit closer, letting Julian pet his hair and shoulder, and feeling slightly better.

*

Between Worf and Garak, Julian wasn’t sure who was the most ridiculous.

At least when he was patching Worf up, he was doing something, being a doctor, even in these conditions. There was nothing he could do for Garak, who had remained curled on his bunk for almost a full day now.

There was nothing for it. Clearly, Garak wasn’t going to rally to going back inside the wall.

“We’ll have to come up with a new escape plan,” Julian said, though he had no idea as to what that could be.

“No.”

The voice was unexpected, quiet, but stronger than he would have thought. Garak struggled into a sitting position, trying to look well. “Our original plan will work. I just have to finish what I started.”

Garak went back in. Julian watched as they all took their posts before he sat down, staring straight ahead.

He wanted to go home. Wanted to be back on the station. Wanted to see Miles and Dax and everyone…

But then what? What about him and Garak? As much as Julian hated to admit it, this experience was probably just what they needed to bring them back together. Already, Julian had fallen back in love with Garak, almost to the point he’d been at before everything had happened. For just a moment, in this prison, it felt as though Tain had never ruined anything…as if he and Garak were really going to go home and live happily ever after.

Martok and Worf had left again. Julian barely noticed.

The truth was, he was too conflicted. He should be happy—Tain was dead, Garak was going to save them, they were all going to be fine. But instead, he just felt…lost. Empty. Confused, more than ever.

Would they make it? Could Garak rewire Tain’s makeshift transmitter? And if he did…once they got home…

Julian didn’t have time to think about it. The woman turned. “Jem’Hedar,” she said.

“Can we get him out?”

“No time.”

The Jem’Hedar came in, looking for Garak. Julian did his best to stay calm and neutral as they tore the room apart, hoping…

It was no use. They found the tool and the game was up. They shot the male Romulan, and then they were fighting. It didn’t take long to overpower the three soldiers, but Julian and the woman were the only two left. They exchanged a look.

“Doctor, would you please keep the noise down,” Garak called. “I'm trying to work in here.”

“How many transtator circuits do you have left?”

“Three.”

Only a few minutes later, there was a spark, the light of a transporter, and Julian found himself on the runabout. Garak, Worf, Martok and the Romulan stood with him. Garak and the Romulan went to the controls and started flying immediately while Julian and Martok took Worf to the back.

“I’m going to send a message to the station,” Julian said. “So they know to expect us. Keep him alive for a minute.” He returned to the front. “Garak, I need to alert them.”

“Be my guest,” Garak said. Julian leaned over him and sent his message. Once he was finished, he looked at Garak.

“You were magnificent, darling,” he breathed, and then he kissed Garak soundly.

The Romulan glanced at them and rolled her eyes. “Could you save that for later?” she asked. “I’m afraid my skill flying Federation ships is a bit rusty. And your Klingon needs a doctor.”

Julian grinned. “We’ll talk later,” he said to Garak, and returned to Worf in the back.

*

They didn’t get a chance until much later that night. Back on the station, safe and whole, Garak knew he just had to wait.

Sure enough, his door chime sounded. He smiled and called for whoever it was to enter.

Julian came in, clean and shaved and looking much better. Garak opened his arms and Julian rushed into them, kissing him deeply again.

They kissed for a moment before they broke apart. Garak looked at Julian in concern. “Are you really all right?” he asked. “After…everything.”

Julian seemed to hesitate a moment. “I…mostly,” he said. “I’m not…I wasn’t hurt,” he said. “And…are you okay? You did lose your father…”

Garak sighed. They moved to the couch and sat down. “He wasn’t a very good father,” he said. “You probably guessed that. I spent my whole life trying to make him proud of me…and he never was. Not really.”

Julian nodded. “I can understand that,” he muttered.

Garak looked at him oddly. “Don’t get along with yours?”

“No,” Julian said. “But that’s not important...are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m not all right,” Garak said. “I’m…angry. I’m sad. I’m…lost without him.”

Julian nodded again. “I guess…I feel the same way,” he said. “I should be glad he’s gone…I should be relieved that it’s over, but…I’m not. Because it’s not over…not for me…it’s never going to be over, is it?”

“No,” Garak said. “He’s part of us…he always will be, I suppose.”

They were quiet for several minutes. “So what now?” Julian asked.

“Now,” Garak said. “I suppose…we go back to normal.”

Julian snorted. “Is there a normal for us?”

“No,” Garak said. “I don’t suppose there is…not yet, anyway.” He turned to Julian. “What do you want? Just for right now, what do you want for us?

Julian was quiet for a long time. Finally, he spoke. “I suppose…just for right now, I want to just be with you for a while. Just for right now, what I want is to hug you. And just for right now…I want you to be sad, or angry, or however you need to be.”

Garak nodded. Julian moved closer and they embraced again.

They hugged, and they kissed once or twice, and they both cried, though they didn’t speak again. And finally, they both fell asleep on the couch, curled up together, fully clothed and fully at peace.


End file.
